


You Make Me Bold, You Make Me Strong

by Nixie_DeAngel



Category: DC Extended Universe, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, Bottom Clark Kent, Dirty Talk, Dom Lois, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Femdom, Gentle Dom, It's important kids. Never forget your aftercare, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Smut, Top Lois Lane, sub clark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:27:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27177202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nixie_DeAngel/pseuds/Nixie_DeAngel
Summary: Perhaps, she thinks, maybe she’ll get him to come once more for her. Though, she muses as she tilts her head, watches the way he pants, the way he’s gripping the sheets — doing his level best not to tear or damage them — she could probably squeeze two more out of him. Before calling it a night and letting him rest. Yes, she decides and shifts, widening her knees, getting herself more balanced, she’ll get two more out of him before letting him float without flying.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Lois Lane
Comments: 4
Kudos: 50
Collections: Fic In A Box





	You Make Me Bold, You Make Me Strong

**Author's Note:**

  * For [girlsarewolves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlsarewolves/gifts).



> I hope you enjoyed this!

* * *

They rarely got the _time_ to do this, Lois thinks, smiling, pleased as punch like a predator. She stares down at Clark, splayed across their bed, all loose limbed and sex sweat. No, they seldom had the time to play like this, between her job, his AND him being Superman. It left little time for nights like this one.

“Such a good boy,” she murmurs, in between sucking bruising kisses along his shoulders, up to nip at the base of his throat. “Such a lovely thing you are for me, Clark.” She sucks his earlobe into her mouth, nibbling it before biting it sharply. She draws back at his hiss, lips turned up into a smirk, and moves to press a ling of biting kisses along the other side of his neck. 

All he can do to respond is whine, low and throaty, pushing back lightly, as if trying to chase where her cock — a monstrous purple thing with hard bumps spiraling from the tip down — lays motionless inside of him. 

She remembers how he’d stuttered, face flushing so darkly Lois had honestly thought he might faint when she’d guided him into the shop. How he’d barely whispered loud enough, how Lois had figured out a system quickly, so they could buy a few toys, just to try out. 

She remembers vividly how he’d swallowed audibly when his eyes had laid on the dildo strapped into her harness. How his breath and pulse quickened, how he’d whimpered, legs just barely holding him up.

She hadn’t bought it then, of course not. No, she’d quietly argued, Clark wasn’t used to taking something _that_ big. So instead, they’d bought a kit to work him up to it. She’d waited a few weeks, until Clark was called away by some Justice League emergency, before she’d gone back and bought the toy. It hadn’t been brought out to play with right away either. No, no, Lois had waited until it was their anniversary before telling Clark what was waiting for him. 

Coming back to the present, she lets out a throaty chuckle, bites harder at his throat. Drawing back after a moment, she pushes back up to kneel between his legs, spread wide and shaky. Drawing her fingers through the sticky mess still cooling on his stomach from their last round, Lois swirls her finger tips before using her other hand to pinch at his thigh, waits until he opens his eyes to look at her and sucks her fingers into her mouth. 

Laughing at the way his cock gives a twitch, the way he arches and whines louder, longer, needier, Lois pulls her fingers out and glides them along the side of his cock. “I know baby, such a _needy_ thing you are. Such a wanton creature, Clark,” she teases, low and dark. Then gives a strong, quick thrust of her hips, burying the strap-on in his heat, until the sit flushed together.”

He lets a punched out breath, back arching, bowing at the unexpected movement.

She stills, doesn’t move again until he begs, little breathy calls of her name, of pleas for her to just, “ _Please_ , Lo, please, need you, _need_ you so much, _Lo_.”

Clucking her tongue, she moves to curl her hands like brands around his hips as she eases her back until just the tip rests inside him. “But you’ve already _had_ me, Clark,” she chides teasingly, almost smugly, digging her fingers into his skin. She remembers how she’d made him come the first time to her tongue and fingers against his rim, trying desperately to stay on his hands and knees like she’d wanted. How the second time, she’d shoved his hand down, fingers locked in a steel grip in his curls, and fucked him hard and fast through his second and third orgasms, back to back. 

The Fourth time, she’d gently helped him turnover, making him lay in the mess he’d made, and slowly teased and eased his next orgasm from him, with words of praise and love and tender touches. And now, now she’s waiting for him to recover a bit. Not _too_ much, though. No, just enough so he could feel the bite and sting of her fucking him again. And again.

Perhaps, she thinks, maybe she’ll get him to come once more for her. Though, she muses as she tilts her head, watches the way he pants, the way he’s gripping the sheets — doing his level best not to tear or damage them — she could probably squeeze two more out of him. Before calling it a night and letting him rest. Yes, she decides and shifts, widening her knees, getting herself more balanced, she’ll get two more out of him before letting him float without flying. 

She eases herself back in, sets a slow and steady pace. Keeps at it until she can see his eyes water in frustration. Biting back the smirk, she pauses when just the tip is still in, and shifts, moving to curl one of his thick thighs high around her waist, and the other until it’s stretched and resting on her shoulder. Readjusting her stance, she drives back, harsh and fast.

“Oh, _oh_ ,” he cries out, eyes screwed shut, tears leaking from the corner of his eyes. “ _Lo_ ,” he begs, pleads with her to, what he probably doesn’t know, just doing so on instinct. “ _Please_.”

“I know, baby,” she pants, hips snapping and drawing back in rough thrusts. “Just gimme this, Clark, you can be a good boy and come for me again. Can’t you, sweetheart?” She never falters in her movements. 

It doesn’t take _too_ much longer before he’s coming, spilling on himself, adding to the mess on him, and dribbling onto the sheets. His neck arches, driving his head into the bed and a choked off moan slipping out between parted lips. 

But she doesn’t stop, keeps fucking into him, rough and fast. Just keeps… right on thrusting, driving in and out, grunting; never giving him the chance to try and catch his breath. Uncurling one hand, she slips it between his thighs, wrapping around his softened cock. “Come on, sweetheart,” she growls out, “Gimme one more, you can do it. Be My _wonderful boy_ , Clark,” she demands. 

Takes a few rough slides of her hand, sharp, sting thrusts, before his back is arching, bowing straight off their bed, a strangled, silent scream, and he comes again. She tenses, stills her hips and hands, and waits, watches him as he rides out his second orgasm in moments. Eventually, he falls back onto the bed, tears still leaking from his eyes, breath wet and panting as he shudders.

As gently as she can, she pulls her hand off his cock, “I know, it’s okay. You did good, Clark, you were _so good_ , baby,” she murmurs softly, when he lets out soft whimpers of pain at the overstimulation. “Just, just need to pull out now, okay? You were _beautiful_ , baby. Made me so happy. You did exactly what I wanted you too. So good all night for me,” she praises, smiling softly down at him. 

Giving him a moment before easing his legs down, letting them more flop onto the bed than anything, really. She carefully pulls out, slow and steady, murmurs of praise and love, reassurances that they were done for the night, falling from her lips. 

Crawling back on her knees once out, she crawls off the bed and stands there and watches him for a moment, “I’m gonna go get a wet cloth, to clean you up, okay, Clark?” She doesn’t move until he gives her three taps of his left hand, signalling to her he’d be okay for a moment. 

Spinning on her heel, she hurries to the bathroom, unclipping her harness as she goes. Once in, she unhooks the toy, dropping the leather onto the floor, and drops the toy into the sink — to clean in the morning — and washes her hands, before wetting a cloth. 

Moving swiftly back into the room, she wipes his front down first, before helping to easy him up from the bed on unsteady legs. Wiping down his back, between his thighs, she tosses the solid washcloth away and starts guiding him on trembling legs out of their bedroom, and across the hall to their spare room. 

Settling him under the thick, plush covers she’d put on the bed earlier, she holds out a juice box for him to drink. Once finished, she tosses it into the trash and climbs in bed, letting Clark curl up, face tucked into her neck and arms around her. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, soft and shy almost.

“Of course, baby,” she says, voice full of love. “I’m always to give you what you want.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm Nixie! You can find me where I post the things I [create](https://nixies-creations.tumblr.com/), or at my main blog [here](http://nixie-deangel.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
